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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24771067">Lost, Found, Alive</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar'>tjstar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you look like death [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BAMF Klaus Hargreeves, Canon-Typical Violence, Dave &amp; Klaus Hargreeves During Vietnam, F/M, Fix-It, Ghosts, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, M/M, No Incest, Past Drug Addiction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sibling Bonding, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, Telekinesis, Time Travel, Vampires, Vietnam War, tua comics references</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:53:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24771067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sir Reginald Hargreeves has kicked the bucket, and Klaus has to rejoin his dysfunctional family  mostly just to make sure that the old man is not going to haunt him in his nightmares. Turns out, all of his siblings have different plans; with Dave’s support, he’s gonna handle it.</p><p>Even when the world is ending.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dave/Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves/Eudora Patch, Klaus Hargreeves &amp; Everyone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you look like death [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>358</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The phone keeps ringing in the hallway.</p><p>“Oh, really?” Klaus lets out a frustrated sigh. Why does it have to happen <em> now, </em> when he and Dave are in the middle of <em> something. </em> Well, not exactly in the middle — they’re not even <em> that </em>naked yet, but they’re getting there — Dave’s muscles are tensed up, strained, his breathing is hot and wet against Klaus’ neck. </p><p>The phone rings again.</p><p>Dave pulls away from him.</p><p>“Okay, I’m…” </p><p>“I’m picking up,” Klaus gets up, wishing to be done with this pesky thing already; he leaves the bedroom, so pleasantly empty for the first time since — since that moment from his childhood when he broke his jaw and discovered a miraculous world of morphine. God bless Mom. </p><p>He wants to cut the wire by the time he enters the hallway.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I’m listening.” </p><p>There’s a scratching noise, and then Klaus gets punched right in the ear by fateful words,</p><p>“Reggie died.”</p><p>“Reggie <em> what?” </em> Klaus doesn’t even recognize Diego’s voice at first. Diego is definitely not grieving. Diego is mostly in his <em> oh-shit-I’m-gonna-have-to-meet-my-siblings </em> mood. “Did he… Did he really?..” chills run down his spine as he looks around. He can’t keep the ghosts away anymore, he’s missed his moment — they’re flooding the hallway as he blinks, as he loses control over his power again. “Dear old Dad kicked the bucket because of?..”</p><p>Because of a bullet to his chest? Did he choke on his shitty — pardon — expensive royal tea?</p><p>Diego hums. More scratching noises fill Klaus’ ear, as if Diego is trying to carve his signature all across the phone. </p><p>“We don’t know yet. Luther just called me, and…”</p><p>“Luther?” Klaus probably sounds too cheerful. “What’s his opinion on gravity after those years on the Moon?”</p><p>“Do you seriously think we talked for that long?”</p><p>“Right, right, how dumb of me,” Klaus looks around again and doesn’t like what he sees. “I can’t… I mean, Dad’s always been a stubborn prick, yeah? Old soul can’t probably figure all that ghostly technology.”</p><p>“Gonna try?”</p><p>Klaus rubs his forehead; a headache is blooming in his skull already. </p><p>“Yeah, of course.”</p><p>Ben is listening to their conversation skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest. </p><p>And Diego strikes them down with —</p><p>“We’re meeting at the Academy tomorrow in the morning. Family matter and all that shit. Luther didn’t even ask about you though, was probably too excited about meeting Allison.”</p><p>Klaus smirks.</p><p>“Sounds like him.”</p><p>Somebody’s yelling in Diego’s background, something like “gimme a phone, Hargreeves, I’m waiting for a call from my wife!” Diego curses and spits out a quick —</p><p>“See ya tomorrow, bro.”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Diego hangs up.</p><p>Inside, his heart drops — he only used to visit the Academy to steal Reginald’s silver tableware and whatever gold-plated items he could find, but. Reginald is dead now. <em> Dead, dead, dead, </em> he should be drilling Klaus’ back with his heavy gaze already.</p><p>Klaus has always been afraid of his father. Afraid of his every step, of his every “It’s time for a special training, Number Four!”, of his clothes even. Of that stupid monocle, of his manners — worst of all, Klaus has always been afraid of getting sober one day, getting haunted by Reginald’s ghost. It’s been a lot easier for the others, of course, but being watched by your dead father is a terrible perspective. Klaus has always been afraid of the dark, of the murmurs behind his back to the point he felt physically sick. </p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>Dave appears so suddenly Klaus nearly rips the phone off the rack on the wall. </p><p>“My Dad died,” Klaus leans to Dave’s chest, hugging him. “Diego just called, and…”</p><p>“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Dave whispers. </p><p>They never talked about Reginald or about Klaus’ childhood in general. Klaus’ throat is filled with sand of the words.</p><p>“It’s… It’s fine.”</p><p>This is all that he can say. </p><p><em> My Dad locked me in the mausoleum </em> — it’s fine;</p><p><em> I couldn’t breathe when he was around </em> — it’s fine;</p><p><em> He can still follow me everywhere </em> — it’s…</p><p><em> He forced us to bully our sister for being ordinary </em> —</p><p>“It’s not fine,” Klaus changes his minds drastically. “I just need to be sure that the old man… Is really dead.”</p><p>He’s not surprised when Dave decides to go back to the Academy with him.</p><p>Klaus is happy, really, and Dave is on vacation for a week, what a good time for him to meet Klaus’ mess of a family. A robotic Mom and a chimp-butler included; Dave shouldn’t be startled after all. They get back to the bedroom in silence, Klaus can’t stop shivering as the gaze of a dozen ghostly eyes lands on his bare shoulders like a whiplash. He would have gotten drunk to celebrate just something if he only could. The <em> urge </em> to get drunk or high has been staggering along recently, the <em> need </em> to drown out the voices. It’s been six months of sobriety. Klaus keeps thinking of stinky shelters and sticky clothes, of cocaine-induced nosebleeds and fights; Klaus keeps thinking of every <em> guten morgen </em> and every <em> guten tag </em> said to him, of early breakfasts and the 60s songs, of polo shirts and wise words. Dave vs drugs — 1:0, no matter what his mind says. </p><p>He can do that. </p><p>“I can’t do that,” Klaus says. The mood is gone, he’s just exhausted. “I don’t want to… Talk to Dad.”</p><p>Who knows, who knows, maybe sir Reginald is dancing waltz with the devil himself at the moment, drinking the sinners’ blood and sticking pitchforks up their ass. </p><p>“You weren’t close, were you?”</p><p>“Oh, you got no idea.”</p><p>Sometimes he’s too tired to joke — sometimes he’s too tired to live.</p><p>Looking at the ghosts surrounding the bed, he’s afraid to see a golden gleaming of a monocle.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Klaus almost hopes they’re too late for the funeral, but his luck has always been a whimsy lady. </p><p>“Well, get ready for a show called “We all hate each other, but we’re still a family” and try not to participate when Diego and Luther start bitching.”</p><p>This is the best advice Klaus can give — Dave’s got a brief lecture about the Hargreeves family from Klaus the night prior. Klaus tried his best to prepare Dave for some things he’s gonna have to experience. He told Dave about the book Vanya published, revealing all of their darkest secrets, <em> his </em> darkest secrets he didn’t even know he kept. He’s supposed to hate her now, but instead he mostly hates himself. Sobriety comes hand in hand with self-flagellation. </p><p>Klaus can predict the fight coming as soon as he and Dave enter the living room. They can only hear some chunks of a conversation, but the subject is still understandable. </p><p>“I called him.”</p><p>“Do you think he cares?”</p><p>“He changed, a lot, and you weren’t there with him.”</p><p>“Diego, listen…”</p><p>Klaus winks at Dave and hurries up as the voices get louder. He lights up a cigarette and joins his siblings who should actually be mourning. He’s pleased to see Diego and Eudora sitting thigh to thigh next to each other on a couch; if these two will become a couple, it’ll be on Klaus’ magical charisma.</p><p>“Ta-da, brothers and sisters!”</p><p>He’s wearing black. Even his nails are painted black, matching his eyeliner. He’s covering Dave with his back, staring at this rather dysfunctional scenery — his siblings have definitely had an argument or two. Luther’s holding a trophy with their father’s ashes in his hands — Klaus doesn’t hesitate to use it like an ashtray — and reaches for another cigarette. </p><p>“Don’t smoke here,” Luther says instead of a proper greeting. </p><p>“I’m quitting, don’t you see?” Klaus waves the cigarette in the air. Ashes to ashes, bones to bones. “I’m quitting, big bro.”</p><p>Luther is, indeed, big. They don’t mention that. </p><p>“It’s nice to see you,” Allison gets up from her seat; Klaus spreads his arms to hug her, but she instinctively looks at his wrists. “You’re clean? Hi,” she turns to Dave, not waiting for Klaus’ answers. He used to wear those rehab bracelets from admission to admission, and of course, Allison didn’t forget about that as one of his <em> sponsors. </em>      </p><p>They’re still on good terms, he can say.</p><p>“Hi, I’m…” Dave looks at the trophy, then at Pogo standing in the corner.</p><p>“It’s Dave. My boyfriend,” Klaus finishes for him. “My bad, I should’ve picked a better time to announce that my personal life is settled, but considering that it’s Reggie’s funeral, I can say we’re…”</p><p>“Did you talk to him?”</p><p>Most painful punches always come from the small ones — so hearing Vanya ask him this question feels like an actual kick in the balls. </p><p>“No,” Klaus says. Honesty is his new self, it seems.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Luther keeps cradling the trophy to his chest, as if trying to protect what’s left of their father. </p><p>“He hated my guts when he was alive, do you think such a simple thing like death could turn him to a rainbow kitten?” </p><p>“He hated you because you were stealing from him just to get high.”</p><p>“Ha! Fair argument, brother dearest, but that’s my inheritance, too,” Klaus twists his coat pockets inside out. “They’re empty, what a bummer! What else do you want me to show <em> you </em> to prove that I’m not planning to buy drugs tonight?”</p><p>“Hey, hey, stop it,” Dave’s tone fills with these certain I-am-a-cop notes. Luther takes a step back. “People change.”</p><p>“Yeah, last time I saw Luther he was smaller,” Diego scoffs and immediately gets shoved in the ribs by Eudora.</p><p>“Last time I saw you, you smelled better,” Luther rolls his eyes. </p><p>Their life has always been an endless contest, they used to be the rivals during their group training. And some things never change. </p><p>“Why don’t we talk about the cause of your father’s death?” Eudora asks, tapping her nail on the paper she’s holding. “I read his autopsy report, and… It’s weird. There was some sort of a poison in his blood, yet unknown, and a half digested candy in his stomach. It’s clear that Reginald’s death wasn’t an accident. He just… Ate a candy, fell asleep and never woke up.”</p><p>Klaus points at the trophy.</p><p>“Dear, believe me, people don’t just<em> sleep </em> like that. The only thing that I like about it is that our pocket-size daddy is not trying to roast me for my appearance now.”</p><p>“I’m gonna find out who killed Dad,” Luther says. “He hated sweets.”</p><p>Diego smirks,</p><p>“So, you think it was one of us? Like, me? Or Klaus? Come on, don’t be shy!”</p><p>“It could be Mom,” Luther blurts out. “Her system, you know, had some certain flaws…”</p><p>“Fuck you!”</p><p>“Calm down,” Dave blocks Diego’s path when he’s about to pull out a dagger. “He’s not accusing anyone, right?”</p><p>“Fine, fine,” Diego reluctantly puts the knife back into a harness. “But one more word about Mom, and I swear I’ll beat the shit out of him.”  </p><p>Klaus almost drops the trophy when Luther pushes it into his hands. </p><p>“You need to talk to him, I don’t know, manifest him, you’re sober!”</p><p>“I think he’ll feel better in Hell, you know, he’s gonna meet me there in like, fifty years or so,” Klaus tries to hand the trophy over back to Luther. “You’re still his favorite kid, so… I can give you my Ouija board. With a user manual, but please, just <em> please, </em> don’t make me do that,” there’s a pang of panic in his chest, and the ghosts around him take too much space, turning the room to a tight, tight closet. “I need some air.”</p><p>“Klaus! Wait!”</p><p>He ignores their hollering, he doesn’t even identify the voices of the living and the dead, but Reginald is not standing among them. Klaus blinks rapidly as he rushes to the back yard, flops down onto the bench and breathes heavily through his nose.<em> No, no, no, Mrs. Bloody Legs, I’m not in the right frame of mind to hear the story about your third miscarriage for the tenth time. </em>Her husband, Mr. Bloody Arms, is standing next to her, next to him, and Klaus closes his eyes and covers his ears to isolate himself from their bawling. Last time he saw their dead kids he threw up all over the bedroom floor, and Dave thought it was his fault. Klaus doesn’t want this to happen again. </p><p>So he clenches his teeth harder when he feels a hand on his shoulder. </p><p>He can’t hold his palms against his ears anymore as the tremor wrecks his bones — sometimes he thinks he’ll be always thinking about the dose when the ghosts scare him shitless. Now he needs a dose of Dave and he gets it. </p><p>“They don’t believe me,” Klaus says. It’s just a statement, he doesn’t need Dave to try and prove him wrong. He doesn’t see any bloodied body parts as he opens his eyes again. “I will never overcome my fear of the dead. It’s like… An exam that I can’t just pass. No matter how bold I am to assume that I adapted… They can always find a way to give me a heart attack.”</p><p>Especially today. </p><p>His mental state is falling apart to the seams.</p><p>Dave listens, rubbing his back while Klaus sits there hunched forward just in case. He’s tired of these unpredictable bouts of nausea. </p><p>“I just want to be sure that <em> our </em> father is nothing but a pile of organic dust from now on. I don’t want him to stick around like Ben. He’s a pain in the ass though.”</p><p>“Rude,” Ben reacts instantly. </p><p>“Oh, shut up,” Klaus smiles with the corner of his mouth. “Don’t lie to yourself, you hate him for that statue that doesn’t even look like you.”</p><p>“You don’t have to stay here,” Dave says, pulling him closer, and Klaus feels boneless and weightless.</p><p>“Nah, I can’t leave now.”</p><p>He smokes, forcing his lungs to work. The gust of wind tangles in his hair along with withered leaves; Klaus shivers, watching the dirt and dry grass swirl across the backyard. </p><p>“What’s going on?” Ben looks around as if he thinks that the ghosts can cause that. </p><p>Klaus shrugs, seeing his siblings and Eudora leaving the mansion and staring at the tornado; a blue flash rips the air and the reality; Klaus jumps up to his feet to run, but he doesn’t have time to do anything. There is a funnel a few feet above the ground, growing bigger and bigger as the space around it stretches like rubber. A mouth of a portal spits out an old man in a suit — he gets younger and younger in seconds, just like those anti-age cosmetics commercials. And then, there’s just a kid in a too-big suit and with a rather grumpy grimace on his face. He looks down at himself, and exhales a word of the absolute despair. </p><p>“Shit.”</p><p>Klaus has to double-check he hasn’t smoked the weed. </p><p>“Five?”</p><p>He’s not sure that Five is <em> alive </em> until he realizes that the others can see him too — they surround him, touch him, and Five refuses to hug them back. He looks exactly the same as the day when he decided to time-travel, and his pride got him stuck in a big fat nowhere. But now, Five is real, and he swats Klaus’ hand away as he tries to pat his shoulder. The sight of his brother in these clothes is funny, and the fact that he came back on the day of Reginald’s funeral makes everything even odder. Out of the corner of his eye Klaus can see Diego explaining to Eudora something, switching voices and perspectives, and probably quoting Five’s entire biography to her. Klaus didn’t know that Diego had such talents. </p><p>Five keeps cursing, mixing his endless “oh shit” and “what an idiot!” with something about projecting his consciousness into every possible instance of time, and <em> I’m fifty-eight now, you dumbass! </em> Well, typical Five.</p><p>“Is this a normal thing in your family?” Dave asks as Klaus takes a few steps away from the commotion.</p><p>“Yeah, absolutely,” Klaus nods. “Happens to the best of us.”</p><p>Five walks past them, nearly tripping over his too long pant legs; Dave catches him by the elbow before he kisses the ground. </p><p>“Thank you,” Five grumbles with the intonation that can kill an elephant. </p><p>And then he simply blinks himself out of their sight. </p><p>Klaus says nonchalantly,</p><p>“Nevermind. He’s always been an ass.”</p><p>Dave looks at the spot where Five was standing a second ago and utters,</p><p>“Great, just great.”</p><p>Klaus thinks that presenting him Vanya’s book for Christmas is not a bad idea at all. </p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p>Five says the world is ending. So casually, eating a marshmallow and peanut butter sandwich. This is the most Five-thing to do, honestly. All of them gather around him as he repeats,</p><p>“The Apocalypse is coming. We can avert it,” and takes another bite. </p><p>And teleports himself out of the kitchen.</p><p>“I thought it can’t get even weirder,” Eudora says. </p><p>Diego gets distracted from carving something on the table.</p><p>“Welcome to the fam.”</p><p>“Right,” Klaus claps his hands to draw their attention. “Are we going to get rid of Dad’s remains already? I wanted to take a walk before dinner.” </p><p>“Don’t you dare!” Luther starts, but Dave doesn’t let him continue.</p><p>“It’s just a walk, man. Klaus is six months clean.”</p><p>Klaus never had anyone to stand up for him. Literally, never. Diego saved his ass once or twice or more, but that was a I-don’t-want-to-ruin-my-statistic type of help. And Dave is… Dave is different, lacking of sarcasm and toxicity despite his own trauma. This is the level Klaus so desperately tries to scramble to, but he can’t keep his mouth shut. His inner dialogue never stops, and<em> no, Mr. Dead Pervert, I’m not gonna have sex with Dave now, for you to watch, no. </em>That’s just how it goes. They don’t leave him alone, still.</p><p>“No Dad in sight?”</p><p>Luther doesn’t know how Klaus’ powers — (don’t) — work.</p><p>“No, big guy, hate to disappoint you.”</p><p>His siblings probably will never understand what it’s gonna mean to him — what if Reginald is really gonna do an act of manifesting. </p><p>The lights are dim, turning the kitchen to a basement when Five blinks himself back; he’s wearing one of their uniforms with these ridiculous shorts and the Umbrella Academy logo on the jacket. His brows are furrowed, back hunched as the weight of the responsibility and probably remaining radiculitis turns him to a child-like old grumbler. It looks almost adorable. </p><p>“I read your book,” he says. </p><p>Vanya nods. </p><p>Klaus can almost hear their father calling them by their numbers from his newfound home. <em> Number Seven, you missed a comma on the page forty-three, and that was the only page I read! </em>Well, maybe Vanya hates them a bit more than Klaus thought, but she still had the guts to come over after all the confessions she published in black and white. </p><p>The ceremony is a failure itself — sir Reginald has probably had too much shit and knowledge inside of him so his ashes is so heavy it falls to the ground, forming an ugly pile. </p><p>“Would’ve been better with some wind,” Luther says. </p><p>Klaus takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, then exhales the smoke into the sky as heavy raindrops keep hitting the domes of their umbrellas. How symbolic, how funny — as if the weather’s grieving more than the Hargreeves. And they stand here, as distanced as they used to, and Pogo holds a heartbreaking speech about losing his best friend, and Klaus can’t hold back a chuckle. Maybe, if he was a chimp with Einstein’s intelligence, he would’ve been grateful too. Or, if he was a robotic woman programmed to take care of seven problematic children. Cooking oatmeal with her head twisted backwards for some reason. Klaus’ childhood memories are a mess. But well, he can’t throw and curve knives, he can’t lift heavy things, he can’t bend people’s minds the way he wants. Their father’s death remains mysterious, Klaus can feel his siblings’ glances on him again, <em> talk to him, conjure him, come on Klaus, come on, </em>as if his worst nightmare comes true. His umbrella is far too transparent it doesn’t even protect him from the rain that makes his hair curl into tight spirals. </p><p>It’s over now. And the world is almost over, well, if Five hasn’t lost his mind in his… Wherever he’s been. Diego and Luther almost start the fight over their usual “numbers for names” thing, but Eudora and Mom somehow hold them back from knocking over Ben’s statue. Ben says he wouldn’t mind to break it himself. </p><p>Pogo says, </p><p>“Rest in peace, Master Reginald.”</p><p>“And don’t you dare come to me and cry about how disappointed you are,” Klaus crouches down to talk to the pile of ashes eye to eye. Then decorates it with the butt of his cigarette, putting it like a cherry on top of the cake.</p><p>Luther calls all of them for a family meeting right after — they still have to listen to Five’s story, but Klaus can’t force himself to get back to the mansion that’s just filled with horrible reminders of how all of them have been raised. </p><p>“I wanna show you something,” Klaus whispers into Dave’s ear. </p><p>His siblings are not even going to notice he’s gone anyway. This is how they’ve always been — nobody cares about him until their cash goes missing. </p><p>“So you don’t care about the end of the world?”</p><p>“I do, but,” Klaus clicks his tongue. “My reputation in this family is still not good enough.”</p><p>As if he’s never ever been a part of this team. Just like Vanya. Maybe he should’ve joined her as her co-author. Maybe he’s going to give her some material for the sequel. </p><p>They walk down the road slowly, holding hands since Klaus doesn’t want to lose the last drop of reality before scaring himself to death. Wearing his gayest clothes to his father’s funeral was a mistake — he’s freezing now. He’s ready to tell Dave one more secret, and his body won’t stop shivering as they approach the place that holds all of Klaus’ fears. An old cemetery, half abandoned and grotesque enough to be filmed in Tim Burton’s movies. </p><p>Dave squeezes his hand tighter. </p><p>“A mausoleum?”</p><p>“I spent hours upon hours here when I was a kid,” Klaus says. He can’t enter it, he can’t. He can already feel the ones who are existing, <em> living </em> there. “Reggie wanted me to get rid of my fears, and… Apparently it didn’t work.”</p><p>He never told this to his siblings, even Diego didn’t know. Ben found out about the mausoleum-training only after his death when he could sneak inside and calm Klaus down a little. Cold wind runs up and down Klaus’ legs, slipping into the slits and between the laces in his pants, reminding him of his weakness — he hates it. Everything what his childhood consisted of: ghosts, seances, nightmares. But drugs — he loved drugs, he still loves drugs. But he loves Dave more. </p><p>“This explains everything,” Dave pulls him to his chest. “Your father was a monster.”</p><p>“That’s what I’m saying.”</p><p>Klaus can hear them, that trio of the ghosts that tortured him the most — Mr. Gouged Out Eye, Mr. Swollen Neck and Ms. Ugly Wig whose left arm was missing, who could only scream and who hated all the arrogant little boys. Klaus wasn’t even that arrogant — tears and curses were his only protection, and the ghosts were just as bad at communicating as he was. </p><p>Nothing changed. </p><p>He hasn’t seen these ones for ages — maybe they can’t leave the mausoleum after all. He’s not sure how that works. He ignores them yell and outstretch their hands although he’s terrified of the thought he might make them tangible just by accident. No matter how old he is — nine or twenty-nine, he can’t bear their lament sometimes. </p><p>“I can feel them,” Dave suddenly says, whipping around. </p><p>The grass waves steadily, green blades slice the air. The wind gets angrier and the ghosts’ voices grow louder; Klaus looks up at the clouds — the storm is coming. Dave’s glasses are fogged, and Klaus holds himself back from taking and wiping them. </p><p>“Let’s go back to the Academy,” Klaus swallows down a lump of fear. “I want to see part two of Diego and Luther’s conflict, it’s so thrilling when you don’t know what to entertain yourself with.”</p><p>And, the world is probably ending.</p><p>And, his and Diego’s partners are involved into this whirlwind of shit now.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>It’s all quiet when they go back. Mom cleans the cupboards in the kitchen, humming under her breath; Klaus has already told Dave that Reginald was an inventor, so this kind of technology shouldn’t be scaring him. </p><p>“Hey, Mom,” Klaus greets her. She hasn’t changed, of course, she hasn’t. “Where’s everyone?”</p><p>“They’re in their rooms, dear,” Mom smiles, lipstick perfect, skin perfect. “Do you and your friend want some tea?”</p><p>“Nah, we’re good,” Klaus says for both of them.</p><p>She still seems a bit zoned out.</p><p>She keeps singing, and Dave keeps staring at her, wordless.</p><p>Klaus hopes she knows how to maintain her OS when Reginald is not here anymore. </p><p>“You’re free now, you know.”</p><p>“Ah, dear, Diego told me already! But that’s what I think,” she turns to him. “I’m gonna stay here and keep a company for Pogo! In case any of you wants to get back and play board games with me,” her laugh is like a silver stream, voice dynamic working perfectly. </p><p>“Yeah, maybe later,” Klaus mutters. “I’m so tired.”</p><p>Dave tickles his hand a little.</p><p>“Maybe you should go to sleep then?”</p><p>“Yeah, gotta get some rest before the world says goodbye,” Klaus giggles. He still doesn’t believe they’re nearing the end.</p><p>He leads Dave to his bedroom where they dropped their things — they planned to stay overnight at the mansion, but now it seems that Dave is gonna have to spend his entire vacation here. Klaus sighs and goes to the bathroom, telling Dave to <em> not </em> follow him; Ben is not here either. He doesn’t like the Academy just as much as Klaus, so maybe this is the reason. Klaus closes the door and undresses, looking around the room every so often although he shouldn’t be ashamed of exposing himself to the ghosts after years of doing so. Unintentionally. It was their choice, anyway — they compliment him sometimes. But mostly, they just stare. The water is so pleasantly warm it soothes the ache in his bones and in his muscles, he tries to relax and reaches for his trusty old Walkman and his headphones lying on the window.</p><p>A cigarette comes to his mouth, he <em> can’t </em> quit smoking, otherwise he’ll get high on everything he can find. Klaus holds his breath, drops a wet cigarette on the floor and dives underwater. He used to do that as kid, just to drown out the voices of the spirits in his head. He could still see their blurred faces when he opened his eyes in a soapy water. He <em> did </em> pass out like that once, but Ben and Diego found him float in the water unconscious. Ben had to perform a mouth-to-mouth and Diego was making fun of them for the next week. </p><p>Now, Klaus doesn’t pass out although he almost wants to; his lungs are burning, nostrils flaring as he struggles to take a breath. It’s a twisted kind of meditation.</p><p>“...aus! Klaus!”</p><p><em> Leave me alone, </em> Klaus thinks, pressing his palms to his ears. Then he hears something loud like — gunshots? Then he’s being yanked up and out of the water, seeing Dave wear nothing but a pair of black sweatpants, and Klaus’ nose brushes against his torso as Dave shoves his hands under Klaus’ armpits to lift him up.</p><p>And, there are the <em> gunshots. </em></p><p>“Oh shit,” Klaus mumbles, looking at his player and his headphones on the bottom of a bathtub. </p><p>More bang-bang-banging comes from the hallway; Dave covers Klaus with his back while he hastily wraps a towel around his hips since he can’t reach for his clothes scattered next to the opposite wall. </p><p>“Somebody broke in the Academy,” Dave whispers. “They’re armed. Stay in your room while I’m checking,” he leads Klaus out of the bathroom. </p><p>“What?” Klaus clutches the towel with his shaking fingers. “I’m not gonna leave you!”</p><p>In fact, he doesn’t have a second to leave Dave. Or to leave in general — Dave jostles him out of the bathroom like a professional, he’s holding a gun in his hand as well — something that Klaus didn’t notice at first. The bathroom door is broken, latch cracked and handle askew; and Klaus thinks <em> how dumb of me — Dave had to kick the door open. </em>They run downstairs, Dave gives Klaus instructions of how to sneak out of the mansion through the back door or through the window as if Klaus has never done that before; Dave is a cop, and Klaus’ entire family is involved into a violent fight. </p><p>“Who the hell are these guys?” Klaus gasps as soon as Ben appears. </p><p>“Five’s pals,” Ben replies sharply. “They literally asked the same question.”</p><p>“Where’s Five?”</p><p>“Who knows. Little shit blinked himself out of the room during the family meeting. Vanya left too.” </p><p>A painting comes crashing down the wall.</p><p>“Did I miss something interesting?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Klaus covers his head with his hands as the bullet hits the wall right above his shoulder.</p><p>“Move, move, run!” Dave drags him down the hall, firing a gun but missing an invisible target. </p><p>Klaus sees his siblings getting their ass kicked by some weird duo in the masks. A blue bear and a pink dog with funny long ears; and they’re holding guns, not hesitating to use them. Diego’s daggers keep flying, but the assassins dodge them with ease. Allison fights the Dog Mask as hard as she can, and Klaus screams,</p><p>“Rumor her!”</p><p>Allison, apparently, doesn’t hear him. Maybe ignores him. Maybe keeps thinking about her divorce as she kicks the Dog Mask in the stomach.</p><p>Klaus doesn’t have time to repeat it. </p><p>Because the time slows down, and the only thing he can see is a chandelier falling, and <em> Klaus, no! </em> And he can’t move, looking at pounds and pounds of metal that’s about to smash him like an ant. He’s impossibly tiny compared to that bulky thing — he can feel Dave’s fingers squeezing his forearm — and then there’s a powerful jostle that swipes him off his feet, making him slide down the floor and hit his head on the countertop. It’s nothing, this pain is nothing — could’ve been much worse. </p><p>“Luther!”</p><p>Klaus clamps his palm over his mouth — he’s heard something about Luther’s body being modified due to some tragic events — but he didn’t know he got partly turned to a gorilla. Reginald was indeed a sick bastard. With his overcoat ripped, Luther looks like a monster himself, and Klaus almost wants to stop him as he runs out of the room along with the Bear Mask as the fight continues. They forget about Klaus instantly, so he hides under the countertop. Dave stays with him.</p><p>“It’s all gonna be okay,” Dave says. </p><p>And Klaus says,</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>And then he notices a briefcase, a plain black one, and what if there’s a bomb inside —</p><p>Opening it was a mistake. </p><p>But Klaus doesn’t have enough time to realize it as his body falls apart in a flash of a pale blue light.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>my tumblr: i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>An explosion makes the thoughts rattle in his head like frozen peas. He doesn’t understand where is he, when is he, or even who is he — everything is dark and loud; he keeps holding his dirty and sweaty towel around his waist.</p><p>“Get up, ladies!”</p><p>More screaming, more fussing, no time to even ask what’s going on — there’s a pair of dark-green pants in his hands, there’s a helmet being pulled on his head; and there’s Dave. Dave, mirroring his own facial expression, Klaus is sure. Dave’s, who’s been in Hell before. Dave, who’s seen his friends getting killed, and —</p><p>“Charlie’s in the wire!”</p><p>They’re lost in a vertigo of gunshots, orders and hot humid air; they’re the last ones to leave the tent where nobody cares where they came from or why they are not wearing fatigues. <em> Don’t slow down, don’t slow down, </em> Klaus tells himself, he just needs to open the briefcase one more time. The jungle is about to swallow them, to drink their blood and munch on their bones. </p><p>“It’s burning! Klaus, it’s <em> burning!” </em></p><p>“Oh shit!”</p><p>The handle is hot, scalding his GOODBYE palm, and there’s the flames licking the sides of a briefcase all of the sudden — more fire spews out as Klaus panics and hurls it into the depths of the forest. Klaus falls to his knees and covers his head as the briefcase turns to a bomb, bursting and releasing orange-red sparkles mixed with plastic and leather. <em> What did I do, </em> he thinks, <em> what the fuck did I do?! </em> Get up, he needs to get up. He’s not alone here.</p><p>“Let’s go,” Dave says. Dave screams right into his ear, “let’s go!”</p><p>There’s another wave of fire, and Klaus can’t raise his head up; the war never leaves the souls alone, they can’t rest in peace, tuning their ghostly radars just to detect him. <em> Why, why, I was so young, I didn’t need that. I had a family! I had a family! </em></p><p>He doesn’t know what’s gonna happen next. The only thing he’s aware of is that they’re gonna have to survive until they figure out how to get back to their <em> present. </em> </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>The war stinks. It stinks like blood and guts, sweat and dirty boots, like shit and bile. They’re in Vietnam, 1968, and the world has never felt more surreal. When they made it through their <em> first </em> week here, Klaus started to think that even Hell itself is just a Haunted House thing from Disneyland. There are the boys much younger than him, having their hands bloodied and their faces scarred; they’re not seeing anything else except this battle for mythical freedom. </p><p>They adjust. </p><p>Slowly, painfully, they fall into the stream of endless fighting, screaming and losing their brothers in arms without even learning their names. Klaus <em> doesn’t have to learn </em> their names, he feels ashamed for even staying alive and getting lucky — who are you, skinny kid with your brain spilled out of your skull? He doesn’t have to know; and they’re learning his secret only when the death takes them. That’s a closed circle, not a wheel of fortune — <em> who the fuck are you? </em> the living ones ask him sometimes. <em> I wish I knew, </em>Klaus says. They don’t ask them about their past, they don’t dwell on their maybe far-too-close relationship. “Are you two brothers?” — “Ew, thank God we’re not!” that’s how it goes. That’s when they stop being afraid of being German, or Jewish, because they can get killed for just being still alive. </p><p>Two weeks pass, and he still can’t see Ben. </p><p>And, somewhere in 2019, the world is ending. </p><p>“I want you to cut my hair,” Klaus says in the middle of the night when they’re on their duty outside the tent.</p><p>“Are you serious?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Klaus tugs at his curly strands. His scalp is all itchy, skin hot and bloody as he keeps scratching it. “Was dreaming about that since we… Got here.”</p><p>This helmet is either gonna give him a heatstroke or has already given him a heatstroke; his head never stops hurting, his stomach never stop rolling.</p><p>Dave nods and takes the scissors. Wordless, he cuts Klaus’ hair, leaving them short and fluffy, and Klaus continues his mental dialogue with the ghosts around him. <em> HELLO, Mr. Inside-Out, I’m not gonna regret that, because I have a lot of other things pressing down on me, GOODBYE. </em> </p><p>On their second month, Sarge Houston dies with the bullet piercing his chest; he comes to talk to Klaus that night, and he says,</p><p>“I knew you were crazy, kid.”</p><p>He’s not wailing, not blaming Klaus on his death — Klaus killed a Vietnamese soldier who was aiming for Dave’s head. And then, Sarge Houston asks Klaus to tell his wife that he loves her, that he couldn’t reach for her, and Klaus <em> doesn’t want to hear that; </em></p><p>“I knew you were crazy, kid. I knew. You’re gonna make it.”</p><p>There’s a limited amount of sentences that he keeps repeating over and over again, and his chest keeps bleeding. Why does he still bleed? All of them? Klaus’ head is screwed, he wants to bury his nose into Dave’s shoulder and weep like a baby, but he can’t afford this kind of weakness. Another kind of weakness is much easier to afford — drugs, alcohol and cigarettes, an unholy trinity that is more common to use to treat every physical and mental wound. Who needs antibiotics if you can pop a pill or snort a line? There’s one night when Klaus staggers into the forest alone and talks to the dead soldiers — his friends, Dave’s friends from Afghanistan, some Vietnamese guys, and it’s the oddest support group he’s ever attended. </p><p>“The Apocalypse is coming anyway,” Klaus says. “You don’t feel any pain, at least.”</p><p>They don’t share his enthusiasm about dying, all listed KIA and MIA, they want <em> him </em> to contact their families again although it’s impossible — he can’t teleport, okay? He doesn’t want to preach or write an essay about their <em> life </em> after life. </p><p>On their fourth month, he loses any hope to get back. </p><p>Five months in Vietnam, and they get their first night off in Saigon; they go to a tattoo-parlor and get the skulls and rifles tattooed on their upper arms, 173rd Airborne Brigade, SKY SOLDIERS, they’re a family now. A family of survivors, and Klaus feels useful, again, just like those times when he was working with Dave, Eudora and Diego; he doesn’t know why he’s trying to change not-even-his past now, when he should be changing his future. The soldiers are drinking and dancing, trying to get him and Dave drunk as well; Klaus pretends he’s drinking, spitting vodka out onto the floor as soon as everyone turns away. Sober as well, Dave sits next to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. Flashing lights are too bright for his tired eyes, the club is too small, and Klaus says,</p><p>“I want you.”</p><p>And Dave replies,</p><p>“I want you too.”</p><p>They leave the club together.</p><p>They share a room in a motel, with two beds not to look suspicious; they don’t need the second bed when they have each other and a few more hours before the sunrise. They get rid of their ridiculous clothes, of Klaus’ tight striped pants and Dave’s plaid shirt as soon as they enter the room. They don’t need alcohol although Klaus offers to get him drunk to make the ghosts disappear — but then, he’s so high on Dave’s love, melting in his arms into the mattress and biting down his fist not to moan — he doesn’t see them, he doesn’t feel them. He’s never been loved so sincerely and tenderly that he’s never believed he will ever be.</p><p>But Dave — <em> his Dave </em> — loves him and teaches him to love himself. </p><p>“Is this okay that we’ve never before…”</p><p>“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”</p><p>Klaus needed some time for his mental and physical traumas to heal — he didn’t notice how this span of time stretched to almost a year — and he’s ready now. He’s never expected anything from his lovers, but tonight he gets <em> everything </em> at once. And even more, probably, since they don’t know whose life is gonna be taken tomorrow.   </p><p>As cliche as it sounds, crumpled bed sheets smell like sex and sweat, and Klaus smokes in bed in his best 60s fashion. Dave turns to him and smiles, the small wrinkles around his eyes look like the rays of sun.</p><p>“Do you think they know?”</p><p>“Do you think they care?”</p><p>Klaus chuckles. Neither of the soldiers from their brigade will ever remember what happened yesterday, or what was the name of a girl they woke up next to. This is how a cocktail of alcohol and pills work, he’s been there, done that — and sometimes, just sometimes, remembering everything is a blessing. </p><p>His body doesn’t bleed, but his heart does. </p><p>And this is what makes him feel alive and complete.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>A month later, they sneak to the tattoo-parlor again and get matching tattoos — temples with their names on their stomachs, because just words are not enough. When they get back, they’re gonna get married.</p><p><em> If </em> they get back. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>They spend ten months in Vietnam, and Dave is a great leader. He’s not even obsessed with being the leader — unlike Luther — but he keeps his head cold as they get into yet another gunfight in the A Shau Valley; their soldiers listen to him and follow his orders as they crawl down the trenches. As they fire their rifles and throw grenades, as the souls leave the bodies and follow Klaus, asking him to explain what happened. Giúp chúng tôi,* we didn’t want to die! <em> Oh no, Mr. I Killed A Baby Mikey Last Week, burn in Hell, bitch, GOODBYE.  </em></p><p>Dave is up to go to the front line, and there’s a barely healed tiger tattoo on Klaus’ right shoulder; Dave says he doesn’t want it to get inflamed, and Klaus says <em> aw man.  </em></p><p>“Hargreeves! Katz! Get down, get down!”</p><p>Klaus pushes Dave out of the line of fire, his chest thumps against Dave’s muscular back, leaving him breathless. </p><p>“Christ on a cracker, that was a close one! Dave? Dave?”</p><p>“K-klaus…”</p><p>“Hey, what’s going on?”</p><p>“You got shot,” Dave raises his hands up, too afraid to touch him.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Soon enough, Klaus gets it. Soon enough it gets him — pain and fatigue, and <em> ouch, </em> his left shoulder is a mess. The bullet didn’t quite bite its way through the flesh, but it has left a deep trench up his shoulder blade that is probably cracked now. Klaus sees the blood staining his arm, his uniform and the ground, and grinds his teeth not to yell. He’s got a high pain tolerance level, it’s fine. No need to call for a medic even. Or so Klaus thinks. His shoulder burns, it stings, and the fight continues, so the only thing he can do before running back to a battlefield is accepting a cloth from Dave’s hands to tie it around the wound sloppily. </p><p>“Klaus, wait!”</p><p>Klaus doesn’t wait. </p><p>“I’ll be fine, Davey!” a little wink to make everything better. (It doesn’t work.)</p><p>His wound doesn’t thank him when they get back to their tent; the blood has dried a little, and the cloth is sticking to it in the most unpleasant way. It requires stitches, he knows, and Dave prepares the needle and hot water to clean and patch it up. Klaus lets out a huff through his nose, as the other soldiers look at him somewhat pityingly as he sheds his green vest off. It’s all bloodied as well, and Klaus shivers, the adrenaline in his veins keeps buzzing, but the pain is so sharp it makes him feel queasy. </p><p>“Drink up, pal,” a young newcomer — Mitch, Mark, Mike? — shoves a bottleneck straight to Klaus’ lips. Vodka, shitty, shitty vodka as the only painkiller. </p><p>Klaus shakes his head. </p><p>“No, I’m… I’m a recovering drug addict, actually, so I’m, <em> ah,” </em> he bites his tongue when Dave wets the cloth on his shoulder to peel it off. <em> It hurts like a bitch. </em></p><p>A newcomer shrugs and takes a gulp.</p><p>“I figured.”</p><p>And he leaves them alone, as Dave says,</p><p>“It’s gonna hurt.”</p><p>“Oh, really?” Klaus laughs a little. </p><p>Dave’s temple is bleeding, skin black and blue as he takes his helmet off. His glasses are cracked and askew, the halves held together with a thick layer of sticky tape they managed to buy in the store during their night off a few weeks ago. </p><p>“You saved my life,” he says, dabbing at the torn flesh. “And I’m not good at stitching the wounds, to be honest, I’m… Just hold on, okay? Hold on.”</p><p>Klaus nods and lurches forward, hunching his back and clutching his knees with his shaking hands. The ground is cold under his bare feet, or it’s just him who’s freezing. Dave keeps asking him if he’s alright, if he’s staying conscious, and Klaus is not sure — his shoulder blade hurts along with his spine, along with his ribs, and he will not be able to use his left arm properly for a few days. He could’ve gotten drunk now, and maybe Dave wouldn’t even mind allowing him to do so. Klaus is tired, and he’s pretty much out of everything as Dave tugs at the thread after the thread, at the same time trying to staunch the bleeding again. When did it start to bleed again? Will it ever stop?</p><p>His back hurts. Maybe the bullet shattered the bones, he’s broken his bones before. It felt awful. </p><p>Klaus clutches the dog tags in his palm as Dave keeps talking him through this painful process.</p><p>“...and then I said, “Dad, I don’t even like baseball!” and he didn’t say anything. I still think I disappointed him,” Dave pours some vodka onto a freshly stitched wound.</p><p>“You can’t disappoint,” Klaus protests weakly. </p><p>“It’s gonna scar.”</p><p>“Okay, I’m a little disappointed.”</p><p>He’s still shaking. </p><p>“You’re running a fever,” Dave says, pressing his palm to Klaus’ forehead. </p><p>“It’s gonna pass.”</p><p>It doesn’t pass. He eventually dozes off curled into himself, with Dave’s hand thrown over his torso when the blood loss kicks in. He felt like this before, there’s nothing unfamiliar except the location — he can imagine he’s in the shelter now. He can even imagine that he’s just coming down, and there’s no gunshot wound in his shoulder. But he can’t. Dave snores into his ear, he’s fallen asleep a while ago, and Klaus’ fever doesn’t break. There’s probably an infection in his blood, it’s aching and itching, and he swallows down a whimper. </p><p>And he tries to get some sleep too, in the morning it will all be better, but,</p><p>“Number Four!”</p><p>
  <em> No, no, no, please, no. </em>
</p><p>“Number Four! I know you’re not deaf enough to keep pretending you can’t hear me!”</p><p>“Am I dead?” Klaus peels his eyes open. His head is throbbing along with his neck.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Reg— Dad?” Klaus carefully sits up. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“Trying to put a message into your dumb head, of course.”</p><p>“How rude.”</p><p>The soldiers don’t like it when he talks to himself. Or when he talks in his sleep, waking them up when an hour of rest is more precious than gold. But it seems they can’t hear him now — not even Dave — they’re sleeping while Klaus props himself up with his elbows, staring at his father’s ghost. He looks just like Klaus remembers him: wearing a fancy suit and a white shirt, sporting a neat beard and an almost bald head. And his monocle, of course. His eyes are as cold as ice, lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying not to wince in disgust. He’s always been looking at Klaus like that. At all of them, Luther included. Luther just was the one who never noticed that.</p><p>Reginald’s tone hasn’t changed as well.</p><p>“Follow me, Number Four!”</p><p>With this, Reginald turns away from him, leaving the tent, and Klaus is still hurt, his bones ache, and he’s unsteady on his feet as he gets up. His insides keep churning as he peeks his head outside and sees Reginald’s figure in the jungle. </p><p>“Hello, Dad,” Klaus finally says, mockery intended. </p><p>“You didn’t believe Number Five, neither of you did,” Reginald looks him right in the eye. “You failed. I expected you to manifest me right after the funeral, but instead, you just kept pitying yourself. Poisoning yourself!”</p><p>“I’m clean,” Klaus snaps. “Well, even if I wasn’t, what would you do? Lock me in a mausoleum again? My Dear Papa, it’s time to just admit that your methods weren’t working.” </p><p>“You’ve just always been lazy, Number Four.”</p><p>Reginald has always been stubborn. Just like now — Klaus can barely keep himself upright, blinking away black spots every so often; there’s a fresh trickle of something warm and sticky running down his back.</p><p>“How did you die?”</p><p>This is his power actually. Commune with the dead, what a nice reminder. </p><p>“Got killed by the arms of those who are trying to end the world now,” Reginald says. “You must go forward to 2019, where your siblings are trying to avert the Apocalypse.”</p><p>Klaus looks at him and laughs until his throat hurts.</p><p>“Really? Do you really think I didn’t try?”</p><p>“The Commission won’t stop.”</p><p>“The… who?”</p><p>“We don’t have time for this, Number Four! Think of your potential!” </p><p>Reginald’s frame gets more and more transparent; and Klaus still has a lot of questions unasked — the Apocalypse, the Commission, his death — how did they manage to feed him with that candy? Used their forces to make him swallow it? Probably. Or did he do that out of his free will just to gather the remains of the Umbrella Academy together? Klaus outstretches his hand, but his GOODBYE palm sinks through Reginald’s torso and he walks away, he just disappears, and Klaus feels lightheaded and drunk.</p><p>He’s lying on the ground by the time Dave leaves the tent, Dave comforts him and helps him staunch the bleeding again.</p><p>“Klaus? You… You fainted. Better save your energy until morning, yeah?”</p><p>Klaus can’t breathe through the anxiety pushing the air out of his lungs. <em> He did it, he did it, he conjured Reginald, </em> but he got nothing in return — except he’s feeling worse now. Sweat rolls down his temples, insects keep biting his sticky skin. He gnaws on his nails until raw skin begins to bleed. Dave helps him clean up the injury again, and Klaus blurts out,</p><p>“I talked to Dad. The seance gone wrong.”</p><p>Dave probably thinks Klaus’ mind is still far too delirious to function.</p><p>Dave doesn’t say that. </p><p>Klaus doesn’t insist. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>They can’t get back — forward — to their 2019, it’s clear. </p><p>And the war is just a mosaic of deaths, of soldiers still dragging themselves after Klaus; he ignores them, he can’t support them anymore. They’re staying for the night somewhere in a jungle; Klaus’ wound is still bleeding sluggishly, looking ugly and inflamed. </p><p>“I miss Ben,” he says. </p><p>“I bet he misses you too,” Dave replies. </p><p>Klaus wants to talk to him, to joke and exchange sarcastic comments. </p><p>“Why doesn’t it work?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Everything.”</p><p>They’re lying on their damp bedrolls, Klaus exhales the smoke. <em> Yes, Mr. Punctured Lung, I know how bad that hurt, I know, but can you please shut up? Thank you. GOODBYE. </em> Klaus hums under his breath, contemplating his life — what’s his true potential? Jacob, a dead soldier, looks at him from the corner of the tent — he used to make shitty jokes about Klaus and Dave’s Friendship with a capital F, and <em> yes, buddy, you were right, we’re fucking, are you satisfied now? </em>His girlfriend was pregnant when he got to the country, and Klaus feels bad for her now. And for everyone they’ve lost. So when he eventually passes out sprawled next to Dave, he doesn’t expect to wake up feeling somebody’s mouth on his neck. </p><p>“What the H—”</p><p>There are the teeth. </p><p>Sharp fangs draw blood, and,</p><p>“Shit!”</p><p>Klaus gasps, pressing his palm to his throat and looking directly at the man with a bloodied mouth right in front of him. <em> What’s going on, </em> this thought keeps bashing his brain, but he can’t say a word. The others are awake in seconds, grabbing their rifles. </p><p>“Vampires?” Dave whispers, almost on a brink of hysteria. “Vampires?” he repeats, and the rifle in his hands remains unused as the vampire gurgles, and Klaus’ blood spills out of its lips. </p><p>“What the fuck, Hargreeves?”</p><p>One of their soldiers gives him The Look. As if Klaus knows — but he’s been poisoning himself for years — and his blood will never be clean, probably. He hasn’t taken anything in months, but there’s a freaking vampire convulsing on the ground right in front of him.</p><p>“I think I just killed a vampire,” Klaus manages to say, and then he laughs, this is what he used to do when he feels like crying. “I killed it.”</p><p>They should’ve noticed that the village they crossed today was far too quiet — they didn’t meet any locals at the daytime, which was suspicious; and now, it seems, all of them have been activated. They traced the brigade by their scent, and straight to their camp, miles and miles down the road, through the trees and lianas, getting ready to have their meal. Unstoppable creatures — men, women, kids and their grandparents gather outside the tents, and <em> Jesus fucking Christ, they’re much worse than the ghosts. </em>They attack their troop with their bare arms, with their bare teeth, and they’re just far too strong, and the night has disoriented the living ones, and — </p><p>Klaus doesn’t even see the vampire whose brain he blows up.</p><p>The only thing he’s aware of, is that Dave does the same. All of them, because bloodthirsty monsters don’t let them take a break, don’t let them breathe. They can’t stay <em> undead </em> after getting a bullet to the skull, and Klaus’ hands are all bloodied; Dave gets thrown to the ground by a bunch of bloodsuckers and he screams, and Klaus screams too, managing to kill two them before they get to taste Dave’s blood. Even if they’re not gonna get out of here alive, they’re gonna do it together. This fight is a meat-grinder, this is the village of death, and there are breathless bodies of the soldiers from their troop and mangled vampires, and Klaus says,</p><p>“It’s a suicide mission.”</p><p>And then, there’s a whooshing sound, a familiar <em> pop </em> and a flash of a blue light. </p><p>“Klaus, you moron, why did you destroy the briefcase?!”</p><p>Oh, that’s a heartwarming greeting. </p><p>“Hi there,” Klaus waves at his brother. Dave stares at both of them, nearly dropping his rifle. “We kinda… Got lost.” </p><p>“Idiots.”</p><p>Five’s holding a black briefcase in his hand.  </p><p>Five’s looking obviously bored as he takes somebody’s rifle from the ground and shoots the nearest vampire. Then another one, without a blink. Gets a few Looks from the soldiers — and vampires — and flips them off. <em>“What the Hell?” — “It’s just a kid?” — “Whose kid?” — “Is that your kid, Hargreeves? Katz?”</em></p><p>It’s Klaus’ turn to get his middle finger to action. He just hates all the rumors circling around and above him like vultures. Then, he doesn’t have to do anything anymore, because of course, Five knows how to kill the vampires — or how to kill anyone, anything — so it takes him a few minutes to get down the first batch of the bloodsuckers. Klaus touches the fresh sores on his neck, thinking that maybe he should donate his blood to make a weapon just in case.</p><p>Five gets the shouts of approval from the ones who made it through.</p><p>“Gimme a high five, kiddo!” </p><p>It’s a miracle, that Five doesn’t break the soldier’s arm, just gritting his teeth in the angriest smile Klaus has ever seen. It makes him go all <em>aw-w</em> again. Five looks impossibly pissed and frazzled with chunks of dust and chalk in his hair, with his uniform stained with God knows what. He’s limping around like an old soul he is, then taking the briefcase where he left it on the ground.</p><p>“Do you have, like, a storage where you keep these things?” Klaus asks. So casually, it’s a bro-time o’clock! He tries not to think about <em>Five o’clock, </em> he really tries, but he fails. Five steps over a dead vampire with his nose wrinkled, but he keeps looking at the bodies around him as if they’re just piles of trash and debris on the ground.</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>Yeah, Five’s always been an adorable boy. Maybe that’s why they never talked as kids. </p><p>“Take his hand if you wanna take him with you,” Five nods at Dave, brows furrowed and lips pursed. </p><p>Klaus doesn’t need him to repeat this twice, just grabbing Dave’s palm while Five grabs his own; everything is a swirl of colors when Five opens the briefcase.</p><p>And then everything goes black.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>* help us<br/>---<br/>yeah here's a small story about klaus getting that scar on his shoulder. also i have this headcanon that klaus sort of can't have sex while he's sober because of the ghosts surrounding him and i just NEEDED to add that detail<br/>---<br/>comments are very appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He feels detached from his own body, but a smack on his cheek is like a gulp of oxygen.</p><p>“Wake up!”</p><p>“Uh, this is not how you treat your brother, Five.”</p><p>Klaus can’t tell what exactly has made him pass out, but a slight throbbing in his left arm is a reminder. He’s afraid to look at his surroundings for a moment, but the air doesn’t smell like napalm, and the carpet is soft underneath his back. They’re in the Academy, there’s a bewildered Dave, and,</p><p>“Finally! I couldn’t find you anywhere!” </p><p>“Ben? Bentacles? Benji-boy?! Holy shit, I missed you so much!” Klaus lets out a happy squeal; he even tries to pat Ben’s shoulder, but his palm goes through. Then he hugs Dave, because come on, they did it! And Klaus is glad to wander the Academy halls again, he’s glad he can still <em> walk </em> in general. The chandelier lies on the parquet untouched. Everything looks exactly the same way as the night they left.  </p><p>“I talked to Dad,” Klaus tries, but Five just waves his words away. “And he said something about The Commission…”</p><p>These words are probably magical, because Five stops dead in his tracks.</p><p>“He said <em> what?” </em></p><p>“They killed him,” Klaus presses his hands to his chest as dramatically as he can. “Because dear old daddy tried to stop them from ending this world.”</p><p>“And what else—”</p><p>Klaus knows <em> what </em> Five is about to ask, but there’s the bustle in the hall behind them; Klaus swallows his words down and huddles to Dave, covering his mouth with his palm. He can’t stand a horrifying picture he sees: there’s Luther, carrying an unconscious Allison in his arms, there’s Diego and Eudora running after them, all shocked and scared to death.</p><p>“G-get Mom to the infirmary!” </p><p>“Who did that?”</p><p>Dave tries to stay calm, but Klaus can see his muscles tick on their own accord. Blood is everywhere: on Allison’s neck, on her white blouse, on the floor. Klaus blankly presses his palm to the fang holes in his own neck — was that even real? Vietnam, vampires, war — their war is still not over.</p><p>“Who did that?” Dave asks again, grabbing Diego by the shoulder as they enter the infirmary. </p><p>“I. Don’t. Know!” Diego’s voice trembles with panic. “When we f-found her, she was lying like that in some cabin in the w-woods, and…”</p><p>“We think it was Vanya,” Eudora says, tapping Diego’s arm slightly. “A lot of odd things happened while you were gone… Guys! Where have you been?” she gasps as she looks at them more closely. </p><p><em> Oh, </em> Klaus realizes. They’re still wearing those bloodied, dusty and stinky fatigues and helmets; Klaus takes it off immediately, rubbing his scalp — his curls have already grown back, all slick and sweaty now. There is another battle, a war just to save the world, billions of people, and they don’t even know what is going to cause that. In his family, with his family Klaus is just an immature Number Four whose abilities can’t be used properly; he’s been at war, <em> he is a soldier, </em> but it’s not gonna change their opinion on him. He feels terrible.</p><p>“So, when Hazel and Cha-Cha…”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Those assassins in masks,” Eudora says. “Doesn’t look good,” she points at Klaus’ shoulder. </p><p>He glances at the gunshot wound blankly, the bruise around the hole is huge and black, covered in congealed blood. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I almost forgot.” </p><p>Klaus should probably get himself checked in the infirmary as well. Once they make sure that Allison is gonna be fine — despite all the amount of blood she lost, he can’t see her yet. Which is a good sign, isn’t it?</p><p>
  <em> But what on Earth could make Vanya want to kill her? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>Allison’s vocal cords are severely damaged. This is what Mom says. She’s gonna make it, this is what Mom says too. </p><p>“One of you is going to have to donate blood for your sister,” Mom informs them, voice stern and concerned. </p><p><em> I will, I will, I will, I— </em> </p><p>They pick Diego — woo-hoo — the only one of them who’s afraid of needles. Pogo tells him to lay down on the cot, and, and,</p><p>“Shit…”</p><p>Everything has to happen at once, so there’s a trickle of blood running down Five’s leg and permeating his shorts; he falls, and Dave crouches down, removing Five’s hand from his stomach.</p><p>“It’s a shrapnel wound,” he states, looking at Pogo who also comes to check an unconscious Five while Mom is busy. “Where did he get it?”</p><p>Klaus slaps his brother’s cheek slightly.</p><p>“Five? Five?”</p><p>Five groans out something resembling <em> I was so close </em> before passing out again. He couldn’t get injured in Vietnam, Klaus is sure — there weren’t any explosions. So apparently he arrived there injured already, and neither of them noticed that while he was killing the vampires, risking to be a bleeding bait for them. Amazing, great, terrific — screw this. Five’s side is all bloodied and bruised, with a sharp metal shred sticking out of his flesh. Well, at least they don’t have to carry him to the infirmary, just picking him up — all skin and bones, he weighs nothing — and lay him down onto a vacant cot. </p><p>Luther refuses to leave Allison’s side, but Mom softly urges all of them to leave the room while she and Pogo take care of their injured siblings. Luther grumbles,</p><p>“So many questions, and we’ve got nothing.”</p><p>“Yeah, no shit, leader,” Diego smirks. As if he wasn’t the one to whimper when Mom inserted a needle in the crook of his elbow.</p><p>“We need to find your sister,” Eudora says. “She might be in danger as well.”</p><p>Diego nods.</p><p>“Right. Klaus, you’re going with us...”</p><p>Klaus throws his arms up in defense.</p><p>“No, no, I’ll pass… Not feelin’ that great.”</p><p>Diego gives him a suspicious look.</p><p>“So it was a real war then?”</p><p>“Yes, it was,” Dave says sharply. </p><p>Eudora stops them when they’re about to go.</p><p>“And those wounds…”</p><p>“Oh, these,” Klaus grins, running his forefinger over the round holes under his jaw. “Vampires. Did you know that my blood is a poison for them? Yeah, me neither.”</p><p>He doesn’t expect her to believe him.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>“So the world’s ending.”</p><p>“Sounds like that.”</p><p>Saying this while tucking the briefcase under the bed is weird. And Dave, sweet, sweet Dave had to relive his worst trauma to the Hell and back. </p><p>“You’re really a family of superheroes,” Dave says with a nervous smile. </p><p>“A family of super fuck-ups,” Klaus corrects him. “Superlosers.”</p><p>“Sounds like a team.”</p><p>“How can you… Endure that?” Klaus falls on the bed, spreading his arms and staring at the ceiling. “Everytime I close my eyes I see the worms and larvae swarming in the soldiers’ guts. Oh wait, I can see that even when my eyes are not closed!”</p><p>He groans and presses his palms to his face.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Dave replies. “I see these horrifying pictures too, I’m scared, and your family might need my help. But I’m grateful that we’ve made it through the war together. Your brother is indeed a genius.” </p><p>“Little shit never stopped planning his… Plans,” Klaus says. “He’s always been a prick as well, but he saved us, but now he’s lying in the bed unconscious and the bomb’s still ticking.”</p><p>He feels a little better after washing away blood and grime; he feels a bit better after slipping into his usual clothes. But his mind is a mess, and he says,</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“For what?”</p><p>“For making you go through this, I mean,” Klaus sighs. “If I hadn’t opened that damn briefcase—”</p><p>“Hey, hey, calm down,” Dave hugs him by the shoulders. “It’s not your fault.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Klaus chuckles. </p><p>“Well, you didn’t start the Apocalypse, well, technically.”</p><p>“Yeah, good point.”</p><p>This thought never leaves his head though. </p><p>“I wanna try and talk to Reggie again.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>Dave’s hand feels heavy on Klaus’ back. Klaus nods, but anxiety makes his insides churn again; he doesn’t want Dave to watch him break down again, he’s fought crime, he’s done crimes in his past. So one more talk with this old hardass will not hurt him — he’s not corporeal, after all. Just one of the ghosts with a message, right? <em> Oh, Ms. Bloody Red Lipstick, don’t look at me like that! I know that you’ve got some daddy issues, but… It’s different, I swear! GOODBYE. </em> Dave is still holding his hand, and Klaus just keeps staring at the ghosts in his bedroom, yelling at him in foreign languages, and some of them are his old friends from ‘Nam. He waves at them as they keep holding their rifles, with their brains trickling down the sides of their heads; injured, broken, lost. And Klaus is lost too, he can still hear the roaring of the helicopters, people screaming and shooting each other. Being a medium and getting the flashbacks is the worst kind of a comedown he’s ever experienced. </p><p>“Klaus?”</p><p>And Dave is so, so real. Klaus should be happy for him too, since they’ve made it this far together, and Klaus’ past couldn’t ruin their present, but… It can still ruin their future. Or, the future might die along with the world. </p><p>“I’m good, I’m fine,” Klaus smiles, biting his lips to stop them from wobbling. “It’s just… Dad’s calling,” he plays it off and gets up from the bed. </p><p>Klaus opens the door, listening to the sounds. All clear, just Mom humming the song in the kitchen. She said she’s so happy to make a dinner for her kids again, and Klaus nearly teared up. He’s pretty sure Diego would’ve weeped like a baby hearing that. Klaus walks into Reginald’s office as if he’s about to steal his golden goblets and pawn them — ah, it’s already done! Indeed. No goblets. Only Reginald’s portrait on the wall, and Klaus turns to it, closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing. </p><p>“Do some manifesting!” </p><p>Silence. </p><p>“The world’s ending, just as you said!..”</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>“Dad? Daddy dearest, for fuck’s sake!”</p><p>Klaus opens his eyes, expecting to meet this You’re My Greatest Disappointment, Number Four look, but he only sees Ben. Ben sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. Klaus still can’t understand why he couldn’t connect with him back in the 60s; so it’s time to talk.</p><p>“You changed,” Ben says. “A lot.”</p><p>“Yeah, you see, I’m even sexier now, huh? With these scars and all the new tattoos,” Klaus’ answer sounds forced; as forced as his smile. “Also tanned a bit. Am I right?”</p><p>“You… Grew up.”</p><p>“You mean, like, grew old? Wrinkles in the corners of my eyes and all that?”</p><p>He sits down onto the table, nearly knocking off a heavy paper holder.</p><p>“How long you’ve been gone?” Ben flops down into an armchair. Wow, this conversation takes a therapy-like turn. Klaus doesn’t like it. </p><p>“Ten months.”</p><p>“Ten months?!”</p><p>Ben <em> gasps. </em></p><p>Klaus doesn’t know what to say anymore. The air turns to soot again. </p><p>“Dave is an excellent leader. He’s the reason why I’m still standing there talking to you. Otherwise, I would’ve just… Thrown myself over the first available gun, I swear. And he’s, you know… So kind, and strong, and <em> vulnerable, </em> and I just,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I was about to screw everything up.”</p><p>War, blood, vampires. Vampires craving his blood and choking, he tells his story to Ben, he’s the one to twist his soul inside out to a ghost instead of being a listener. And it works, this time it works. His heart’s still heavy, and tears are still stinging his eyes, and his body hurts. He tells this to Ben too — getting beaten both physically and mentally is not unfamiliar to him, Diego read his medical history once and his jaw dropped. </p><p>“You didn’t screw anything up, Klaus.”</p><p>“How can you handle all of this sober?”</p><p>“Well, I’m dead.”</p><p>“Ah,” Klaus giggles. He literally <em> giggles, </em> because death apparently doesn’t want him. His situation suddenly gets too funny for him and he laughs, and laughs, and laughs until he hears the footsteps behind his back. He jumps up, caught off his guard — just like those good old times — but this time, he’s not trying to steal anything. Reginald’s strongbox password was 1-1-1-1-1-1-1, is this how much he loved Luther? Klaus figured that just accidentally.</p><p>“Allison? Hey,” he comes closer and hugs her. She pats his back awkwardly. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”</p><p>Allison shakes her head. There’s a notepad and a sharpie in her hands, and she writes one word and shows it to Klaus. </p><p>VANYA.</p><p>“She did that?” Klaus staggers backwards. He can’t believe, he simply can’t believe that Vanya, their sister — who’s always been so calm, so empathic, so ordinary her entire life — is capable of slitting throats. “How?”</p><p>Allison writes some more.</p><p>USED A BOW. SHE’S GOT POWERS. </p><p>And then Allison makes a gesture as if she’s playing a violin and points at her ear. </p><p>“Music? What?” Klaus rubs his chin until his skin begins to burn. </p><p>Allison writes something on the notepad again.</p><p>“I think she means that Vanya gets her powers from music,” Ben prompts.</p><p>SOUND WAVES. TRIED TO RUMOR HER. AGAIN.</p><p>Allison’s lips wobble.</p><p>“Again? Oh, <em> again,” </em> Klaus clamps his palm over his mouth, perplexed. “You’ve done that before?!”</p><p>Allison nods. </p><p>“There’s no way Vanya would’ve stayed around if she was ordinary,” Ben says. “We were so dumb, so blind!” he clenches his fist.</p><p>They were just brainwashed by Reginald’s constant <em> rights and wrongs </em> so they couldn’t even notice what was happening right in front of them. Ben’s anger is understandable, of course — a special training session cost him his life. It was the day when something inside of Klaus broke, his world tilted — he and Ben were too different to be actual <em> friends.* </em> His siblings didn’t believe him when he told them that he could see Ben.</p><p>He didn’t want Reginald to use Ben’s death as a part of<em> his own </em> training, so he kept their conversations in secret. </p><p>Reginald has always been a vile liar, but the public always believed him — the press believed him, <em> yes, yes, these kids are safe and they are totally enjoying their superhero lives. The Umbrella Academy, one of a kind, of course!.. </em> Klaus smiles, all crooked and sad. His life switched from posters, interviews and magazines to rehabs, pills and needles, fights and nosebleeds. There were a few headlines about him personally, after his first overdose, and then… Then he just disappeared, mixed himself with dust and dirt just to forget about his moments of fame.  </p><p>“I bet you’re gonna get your voice back soon, Ally.”</p><p>He tries to comfort her, really, but there’s a line of stitches connecting her head to her body, there’s a band aid over the wound. She opens her mouth, but there’s no sound. She looks tired, eyes puffy and lips bitten.</p><p>“Just wait a few days, and you’ll be singing Don’t Stop Me Now with Five! He’s a fan of Queen, I believe?”</p><p>Allison smirks and rolls her eyes, patting his shoulder.</p><p>THANK YOU.</p><p>“No problem, sis,” Klaus looks at her, and something clicks in his brain — something what he’s been curious of since he was a kid. He thought he forgot it, but now his curiosity seems quite appropriate. “I wanna try something.”</p><p>Allison gives him a perplexed glance. </p><p>“ASL,” Klaus explains. </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Ah, you’ll see, Bentacles,” Klaus says. Then he turns to Allison, “can you repeat after me? I’m gonna teach you some basic stuff.”</p><p>She writes,</p><p>I CAN HEAR YOU.</p><p>“I know, Ally, I know! I just… Do you want to know if you’re still capable of rumoring people when you’re silent?</p><p>She shrugs.</p><p>WE COULD TRY.</p><p>“Indeed,” Klaus clicks his tongue. “Who knows when you’ll gonna need your power.” </p><p>If Vanya got her powers, then everything gets even more unpredictable — and Klaus is still enthralled. He’s not even ashamed of that, and if sir Reginald doesn’t want to show up anymore, then <em> fuck him, </em> and Klaus doesn’t have a magic flute to beckon him. So he’s got one more thing to do. He started to learn ASL when he just left the Academy — he didn’t want that, but he had a very annoying ghost who just kept giving him signs. It was a nice old man, actually, <em> Mr. My Wife Poisoned Me, </em> and he was deaf and mute, and he just needed somebody to talk to. Just like the others — but he was much kinder. Because he didn’t scream at Klaus. There was frothy vomit falling out of the ghost’s mouth, and he kept apologizing in ASL so Klaus started to watch him closely, carefully, trying to repeat his gestures and learn. Mr. My Wife Poisoned Me wasn’t the only one. Mute ghosts are Klaus’ favorite. </p><p>Allison is a quick learner; so it doesn’t take long for her to learn a phrase <em> I heard a rumor… </em>in ASL. Klaus is proud.</p><p>DO YOU THINK IT’S GONNA WORK?</p><p>“We’ll never know until we try.”</p><p>I’M NOT DOING THIS ANYMORE. </p><p>She frowns. He frowns too. Ben frowns too. </p><p>“We can learn something… Neutral. Like,” he thinks. One second, two. “I heard a rumor that you started to dance? Come on, what?” he turns to Ben, irritated. “That’s not gonna harm anyone! And it can help us disarm the enemies!”</p><p>I WANNA TRY. </p><p>“Really?”</p><p>Allison nods, and Klaus claps his hands. </p><p>“Great, that’s great. And then we’re going to save Vanya? To save the world, yeah? You, me, our dear siblings, Eudora and Dave. I bet Dave’s gonna be excited about saving my ass,” he giggles nervously. “Well, we’ll see.”</p><p>And they continue their lesson.</p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p>ARE YOU SURE WE SHOULD TRY IT ON POGO?</p><p>“Yeah, sis. Absolutely.”</p><p>“Klaus, you’re an idiot.”</p><p>“You’re not the first who calls me that, not the last. Nevermind, Allison, Ben has just called me a genius.”</p><p>“No, I didn’t.”</p><p>“Yeah, you did. In your head. You’re doing this all the time.”</p><p>They eventually find Pogo in one of the bedrooms; he sits in the armchair and reads a classic book with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. </p><p>“Hey, Pogo,” Klaus starts. </p><p>“Hello, Master Klaus,” Pogo gets up. “Miss Allison? How are you feeling?”</p><p>I’M GOOD. </p><p>“Do it,” Klaus pushes her with his elbow. “Come on,” he whispers. </p><p>“Oh, I think it’s not an appropriate time for your shenanigans…”</p><p>Allison remains concerned on the way her hands move, <em> I heard a rumor that you started to dance. </em></p><p>“Wow.”</p><p>Ben is impressed, really, because Pogo frowns and then takes one of the vinyls from the shelf and puts it into a gramophone. A catchy tune begins to play,</p><p>
  <em> Children behave… </em>
</p><p>Pogo doesn’t say that it’s not the <em> right </em> time anymore, nodding his head and tapping his foot in rhythm with the song. He’s doing great, actually, Klaus has never seen him dance before. Old chimp always seemed too strict to go wild like that. </p><p>“You did it!”</p><p>He hugs Allison again, then she highfives his HELLO palm. The song keeps playing, and Klaus is about to join, really, but a slight pop and a familiar grouchy voice stop him.</p><p>“We gotta go.”</p><p>“Where?” Klaus turns around just to see Five and a very sleepy Dave standing next to him. </p><p>“To save the world.”</p><p>“Oh, is that all,” Klaus sighs dramatically. “Great.”</p><p>Five’s face is still pale, with a feverish blush on his cheeks; of course, he shouldn’t be just walking around like that with his side stitched up. Of course, he doesn’t care. Klaus is aware of his own injury — it hurts along with his shoulder blade, but he can’t afford any more rest.</p><p>“I think it’s time to unrumor him,” Ben nods at Pogo who’s throwing a real party with his killer moves. “Poor dude’s probably too old for your shit, Klaus.”</p><p>“I’m too old for my shit as well.”</p><p><em> I heard a rumor that you stopped dancing. </em> </p><p>Klaus feels like he’s just won a Nobel prize.</p><p>“Vanya has a show tonight,” Five says, pointing at the newspaper he’s holding in his hands. “Dave found this. How did you manage to end up with a<em> smart </em> man, Klaus?”</p><p>Klaus shrugs. </p><p>“You all used to call me an idiot, but I’m a charismatic idiot, at least.”</p><p>He’s smiling again, but inside, he just wants to press his nose to Dave’s chest and cry until it’s over. Everything. Even the world, probably. </p><p>Five is about to explode with anger.</p><p>Pogo puts the vinyl back on the shelf. </p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p>Klaus always liked Vanya’s music. Nimble fingers running up and down the violin neck, finding the right notes while her right hand clutches the bow, sliding smoothly and shredding the air with the sounds. With the sounds that have made her powers break free. It’s odd to even think about this now, when they’re dangerously close to the Icarus Theater. Vanya’s audience might not even know they’re getting under her charms already, and what’s next, what’s next, their heads are going to burst, their hearts are going to swell, thumping, buzzing, exploding. </p><p>Ending the world with just one suite.</p><p>They regroup there, all of them, meeting Luther, Diego and Eudora — they all are chained together now. Metaphorically. Or not? They can hear the music. Well, maybe dying listening to Stravinsky is not a bad thing. Education is our everything, right? This is what Reginald would have said if he was still alive, and well, Klaus is kind of glad he’s not gonna see them fail tonight. This is not what they’ve been trained for, but who cares? Luther slips into a state of deep deliberation while Diego is ready to start throwing the daggers at all the suspicious shadows lurking around the corners. The only professionals on this mission, Dave and Eudora keep discussing a tactic they don’t have while Five just blinks himself into the venue without a warning. </p><p>“Is he going to stop her on his own?” Dave asks. Klaus doesn’t like his tone at all.</p><p>“Like, <em> stop? </em> Stop-stop, you mean, to kill her?”</p><p>“I don’t know. He’s no stranger to killing.”</p><p>“Oh shit.” Klaus tugs at his hair as they stop near the front door. “They’ve been pretty close, you know? I mean, Vanya was genuinely upset when that bastard disappeared. They used to be friends, but she used to be… Ordinary.”</p><p>“You think he could talk to her?”</p><p>“Who, Five?” Klaus giggles although he doesn’t mean to. “The last thing Five would do is talking.”</p><p>“But it’s <em> Vanya, </em> as you said,” Eudora scratches her chin, thinking. “We should go inside.”</p><p>“No shit,” Diego pulls a knife out of the harness.</p><p>“Do you really think she’s the reason why the world is going to end?”</p><p>“I don’t,” Diego says. “This is what we’re going to check in the first place.”</p><p>I GO FIRST. SHE NEEDS ME. </p><p>“Allison, please, no,” Luther puts his hands onto her shoulders. “Not when she tried to kill you.”</p><p>I’LL DISTRACT HER.</p><p>“From what?” Klaus asks.</p><p>Klaus doesn’t get an answer.</p><p>The music grows louder. </p><p>“So what’s the plan?” Diego elbows Luther’s side. “You’re still our Number One, aren’t you?”</p><p><em> I’m not so sure, </em> Luther’s facial expression reads.</p><p>“Klaus, you’re the lookout,” he says. </p><p>“The lookout?”</p><p><em> Right, right, blame me for my weakness if you don’t have anything to offer. </em> He doesn’t say that out loud. </p><p>“I’m covering his back,” Dave suddenly says. “I’m coming in,” he adds, holding his gun already.</p><p>Dave opens the door.</p><p>Nothing happens. </p><p>The hall is empty, the lights are bright and the flowers in the corners don’t look like the Commission agents who’s ready to attack them. Klaus holds his breath when the sound of the violin ricochets off the walls, causing them to vibrate and sending ripples through his bones. His organs protest as he feels the energy build up inside of him; the ghosts around don’t make things better — there are deceased nannies lined up next to the wall, necks bent and twisted, and <em> yes, Ms. Irish Accent, Number Seven still hates oatmeal. </em>It all makes sense now — Vanya’s past has always been a mystery, but Klaus was not ready for such revelations. So he tries his best not to panic. </p><p>“Do you think she can control people’s minds as well?” Ben asks. Simply to distract him, Klaus feels it in his gaze. </p><p>Klaus snaps,</p><p>“We don’t know a thing about our own powers, how can she know what she’s capable of?”</p><p>“Fair point.”</p><p>“Talking to Ben again?” Luther catches Klaus by the collar of his vest when he’s about to walk by. “What is he saying?”</p><p>Klaus sighs.</p><p>“Nothing. Just… It’s nothing.”</p><p>He can’t quite tell what the music is doing to him, to his mind — he feels almost like if he’s high or coming down. Not good, he can say. </p><p>SHE’S WAITING FOR US.</p><p>“Just to call us out on our bullshit?”</p><p>“Klaus, shut up.”</p><p>Klaus does shut up.</p><p>The door to the music hall is cracked open, the music keeps flowing. Note after note, hanging in the air like raindrops; they look at the stage, they see their sister for the first time since she tried to commit a murder. Allison presses her palm to her injured throat, swallowing hard and skimming her fingers over the band-aids. Vanya’s playing with the orchestra, and her music is <em> visible. </em> A white and blue shield around her, around the musicians stuck on their chairs with the instruments glued to their hands. They’re feeling as uncomfortable as the audience — people try to get up, but just one movement of Vanya’s bow makes them get back on their seats. They’re doomed.</p><p>Just like everything.</p><p>Vanya’s violin is white, and so is her suit; her eyes are blue, skin too pale, smile too wide as she notices them. Allison waves her hand, and Vanya nods; she doesn’t stop playing, of course, and the air gets thicker with the cracking of electricity here and there. </p><p>“We need her to let these people go,” Luther screams. </p><p>“Really?” Diego gives him a look full of sarcasm. “I thought they’re clearly enjoying the show!”</p><p>“Stop it,” Eudora smacks Diego’s back. “We don’t have time for this.”</p><p>“Where’s Five?” </p><p>“Oh, I think he’s minding his business as usual,” Klaus huffs out. “Killing presidents, messing with the timelines. Five’s routine, nothing special.”</p><p>It gets even more twisted when they hear the gunshots; Vanya stops playing for a second, and the orchestra and the audience storm off their seats, running and stumbling to the exit, nearly breaking the door. They’re not getting hurt from what Klaus can see, escaping from the damn theater, spilling out of the building like a tidal wave. Good, good, he doesn’t want to see any more corpses today — he’s pretty terrified seeing all of Vanya’s nannies standing behind her. She doesn’t see them. No one can see them.<em> She killed us, she threw me out of the window! She broke my neck! She pushed me downstairs! Number Seven deserves to die! Number Seven deserves to die! </em></p><p>They chant,</p><p><em> “Number Seven deserves to die,” </em>over and over again.</p><p>A faint blue gleam in the dark corner is far too noticeable — Five almost gets carried away by the audience, blinking himself closer to the seats when it’s almost too late. Armed soldiers flood the music hall, flashes of a gunfire remind Klaus of jungle. Ten months in Hell, ten months on the brink of life and death. He hears Five’s voice as he falls to his knees and covers his head with his arms.</p><p>“Who are they?!”</p><p>He can’t tell if it’s him who’s screaming. </p><p>“Temps Aeternalis!” Five shouts back. </p><p>Klaus opens his eyes just to see Five jump on the back of one of the temps and twisting his neck in a swift motion; he gets the gun, and all of them get attacked by the others. Vanya starts playing again, Dave and Diego run to her from behind, but she notices them — she whips around and raises her bow like a sword; both Diego and Dave fly a few feet in the air and fall on the ground.</p><p>“No, no, what are you doing?” Klaus gets up despite the bullet swishing above his head. “Vanya, no!”</p><p>The fight gets more cruel, Eudora presses her palm to her shoulder, blood leaks through her fingers. Allison holds a gun, and Five keeps teleporting himself to the temps to disarm and kill them in somewhat sadistic ways. </p><p>“Klaus, Klaus, can you hear me? Manifest me!”</p><p>Ben’s still incorporeal as Klaus reaches his hand out, he can’t touch him, he can’t do anything; Dave still hasn’t gotten up after the blow, and Klaus can’t control the tremor that makes his bones rattle. </p><p>“It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay,” he repeats to himself. </p><p>He blinks and sees even more blue glowing — onstage, on his palms — <em> on his palms? </em> There’s a tingling sensation on his skin, in his chest, and then he sees Ben in a blue aureole standing next to him.</p><p>“Klaus! Thank God!” Ben exhales. “Hey, guys!” he greets their siblings, Dave and Eudora. </p><p>“Now who’s the lookout?”</p><p>Klaus would’ve laughed louder if he only could, but the stream of his energy is unpredictable, so when he realizes that Ben is not the only one who’s fighting the temps for them now, he nearly cries. </p><p>“Hello, kid,” Sarge Houston says with a lopsided grin. “I told you I knew you had a secret. You fought for us, so now we’re gonna fight back for you. Come on, ladies!” he turns to the squad of the dead waiting for his command. Both from their brigade from Vietnam and Dave’s friends from Afghanistan, they fight shoulder to shoulder, helping Ben’s Horror get as many temps as they can. </p><p>Ghosts of the rifles can still bring death. Transparent tentacles can squeeze the life out of the warriors.</p><p>“Klaus, how could you…” Luther gasps.</p><p>Klaus doesn’t listen to him as he sees Dave get up and walk to him, rubbing his temple with his hand.</p><p>“You’re okay!”</p><p>“Of course I am,” Dave smiles weakly. Then winces. He lost his glasses somewhere, so he squints his eyes as he looks at the dead fighting the living ones for the living ones, and says, “you’ve got potential.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Klaus nods. “Fuck Reggie anyway.”</p><p>Diego is a bit unsteady on his feet, but he still nods in agreement.</p><p>Klaus doesn’t want any of them to get injured, but he doesn’t even look at the floor; so when there’s a sharp pain in his foot, he refuses to accept that he’s just stepped on a glass shard. Klaus groans and unties his sneakers, wearing one of them would be uncomfortable anyway. The sole is ruined, and there’s blood on his toes, but it’s still just a cut. Dave helps him staunch the bleeding using his own sock. Klaus used to walk barefoot a lot when he was homeless, so it doesn’t bother him this much — this is what he tells Dave. </p><p>“I’m glad that you didn’t get yourself killed.”</p><p>And Klaus says,</p><p>“Same.”</p><p>The temps are taken down, but the last bullet flies in Vanya’s direction — and it stops — because there’s the ray of energy bursting out of Vanya’s chest and hitting the ceiling. She drops her violin and stands on the stage stock still, and there’s a gaping hole in the ceiling. Klaus throws his head back and looks into it, into a starry sky, and,</p><p>“Guys? You see that big Moon rock coming towards us?”</p><p>They do, of course they do.</p><p>Ghost soldiers are gone, Ben’s gone for the eyes of the living — Klaus can see him, Klaus is going to join him in the afterlife soon. All of them.</p><p>“So this is how we’re gonna die, huh?”</p><p>Patch shoves Diego in the shoulder with her good hand, and Klaus can feel another onslaught of something weird blooming up inside of him — he holds his palms in front of himself, HELLO, world, GOODBYE, and screws his eyes shut, unable to look at the catastrophe that’s about to happen. </p><p>“It’s stopping, Klaus, it’s stopped! Hold on, hold on,” Five’s voice cracks. “I wanna try something, Klaus, hold it, hold the fucking Moon up!” </p><p>He feels awful, the heat in his blood, a pressure in his brain — maybe Mom feels the same when she needs to reboot her system. Klaus can hear his siblings’ voices, they’re praising him, telling him that he’s doing just great, and that his powers are truly extraordinary now. </p><p>And then something jerks his body backwards, downwards, into somebody’s arms, and he hears Five wheeze out,</p><p>“This is it, guys. We saved the world.”</p><p>A thud follows his words, and Klaus sits up, shaking himself awake, trying to understand what’s happening, and <em> when are they?  </em></p><p>“Five? Vanya?”</p><p>Both of them are unconscious, and Klaus is about to join them, honestly. He’s all giddy and dizzy, he can’t let go of Dave’s hand as he gets up on his feet. Luther picks Vanya up, Diego holds Five. </p><p>The sphere of a ceiling is untouched, all golden, red and black, looking as lavish as it should. </p><p>“Did we… Did we just repair the Moon?”</p><p>Luther frowns.</p><p>“Yeah, we did.”</p><p>“Five was able to rewind the time while you didn’t let the Moon fall down,” Eudora said. “And apparently his body wasn’t ready for that.”</p><p>Klaus nods blankly. </p><p>They have to go home now.</p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p>Five was a hit man, and Klaus is not surprised; he’s reached the point where all the news stop bothering him, like, at all. Five’s combat skills helped them a lot, so judging him for all the things he’s done doesn’t make sense.</p><p>Or so Klaus thinks. </p><p>Vanya’s boyfriend wanted her to end the world. That man is dead now, more trauma caused, more troubles to deal with — Klaus doesn’t see a ghost of that Leonard-Harold-Whatever, but he would’ve punched him in the face if he only could. Vanya isn’t taking her meds anymore, trying to curb her powers, and there’s a lot of things Klaus missed during his time in Vietnam. He’s got a lot of things to fix. All of them, Dave and Eudora included, have decided to live in the Academy for a while, not to let Vanya blow up the Moon again. Diego throws more jokes about Luther, but all of them are too tired to fight about that.</p><p>Klaus hasn’t smoked since he and Dave got back from 1968; he’s getting all itchy and fidgety again, having left his last addiction behind, but he tries to cope with his mental trauma without worsening his physical condition. He tries to knit at least something, but the threads are way too tangled, and the knitting needles he borrowed from Mom are way too slippery as his palms keep sweating. Well, he could do some cross-stitching with her as she offered. Maybe he could take some courses, he thinks about it as he waits for Dave to come out of the bathroom.</p><p>The Apocalypse is averted, but the future — and the present — is still uncertain.</p><p>Klaus drops knitting needles on his bare stomach as he hears the knocking on the door. </p><p>“Come in, amigo!”</p><p>The door cracks open.</p><p>“Hey, it’s… It’s me.”</p><p>Klaus sits up in his bed, the clew falls on the floor and rolls across the bedroom, jumping on the floorboards.</p><p>“Vanya? Oh, hey, are you lookin’ for… Five? Ally?”</p><p>Vanya clutches the hem of her flannel.</p><p>“I’m… No, I’m… I came to talk to you, if this is okay.”</p><p>“Oh, dear, sure, sure,” he pats the mattress beside him. “What’s bothering you?”</p><p>And Vanya says,</p><p>“Everything.”</p><p>“Well, let’s talk about our everything then, huh?”</p><p>Vanya sits down next to him, squeezing her knees with her shaky hands. </p><p>“I don’t know what’s going on,” she breathes out. </p><p>Klaus throws his arm over her shoulder, and she flinches before relaxing a little, leaning to him and sighing. And he doesn’t know where to start: “it’s not your fault” or “don’t blame yourself” or “you couldn’t have known” or “we’ll be there for you” — all of these sound just terrible.</p><p>“Your powers,” Vanya says, voice a little raspy. “New ones, I mean. Your sobriety did it, right?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Klaus gets a hint. </p><p>“It’s gonna pass, believe me,” he hugs her a bit tighter. “It might feel disgusting at first, but then… It’ll be better.”</p><p>“Are <em> you </em> feeling better, Klaus?”</p><p>“Hey! Of course I am!”</p><p>It’s still hard to block out the ghosts.</p><p>Vanya shivers.</p><p>“Sometimes I feel like… It’s just too much, and I can feel things, hear things, and I can’t stop focusing on the sounds. It’s been three days since… And I’m still… Overwhelmed,” she pulls away from him. “Your heartbeat is too loud, and too fast, and too offbeat to get focused on.”</p><p>“And it annoys you?”</p><p>“Something like that.”</p><p>“You know, it might sound not as reassuring as you want it to, but it’s been… More than a year<em> for me, </em> and,” he licks his lips. “I’m still thinking about drugs a lot. I don’t want to be obsessed with that part of my life, but I know I can start shooting heroin again or whatever. Or I can stay on the sober side and at least try to make Dave happy so he can be proud of me.”</p><p>This is not what she wants to hear, this is not what he wants to say — he could’ve lied just one more time to keep her spirit up.</p><p>“I don’t know what to do with my powers.”</p><p>“Neither do I! Come on, now we have at least something in common!”</p><p>Vanya smiles, but her eyes are still sad. </p><p>“We’ve never been close, like, all of us. You always smelled like weed, and tobacco, and alcohol, and I was… Afraid of you.”</p><p>“And you were a weird band kid and I was jealous,” Klaus giggles. “Glad we figured that out, sis.”</p><p>“I don’t want to hurt anyone… Anymore,” Vanya swallows hard. “But I know I can, and…”</p><p>“You’re experiencing a withdrawal while going cold turkey,” Klaus finishes for her. “I know it sucks. And it will, for a while, but you can handle it. You’ll be able to play violin again without ending the world.”</p><p>“This is why I came to you,” Vanya shifts on the mattress. “I didn’t mean to write about you in such a disrespectful way as I did, but…”</p><p>“Aw, don’t worry, you just told the truth,” Klaus shrugs. “I’m not ashamed of all that twisted shit I’ve been through. So you shouldn’t be either.”</p><p>Vanya keeps staring at her shoes, not reacting to his compliments. Then she gets up.</p><p>“I gotta go, I feel like… I should find everyone and apologize? Tell Ben that I miss him so much.”</p><p>“Sure thing, I’ll conjure him for you guys after getting my beauty sleep,” Klaus promises. </p><p>Vanya nods and heads to the door.</p><p>“Hey, V!”</p><p>She stops.</p><p>“You’re a good writer, by the way!”</p><p>Vanya leaves the room laughing under her breath.</p><p> </p><p>*** </p><p>“You know, I can’t dance!”</p><p>“I can’t either, but when did it stop us?!”</p><p>“Can’t believe you stole Luther’s gramophone.”</p><p>“Hey, hey I didn’t <em> steal </em> it! I just… Borrowed.”</p><p>Dave takes one of the vinyls. </p><p>“The Hollies?”</p><p>“Right,” Klaus grins. “Thought you’d like it.”</p><p>“I prefer The Doors, but this works too.”</p><p>“The Doors?” Klaus presses his palms to his heart. “Our first dance! Our… First time.”</p><p>Dave puts the record into the gramophone.</p><p>“You got it,” he turns it on. “But The Hollies works just right, I swear.”</p><p>Klaus believes him. </p><p>Dave holds him as they sway to the music, bodies pressed together, with Dave’s hands on Klaus’ shoulders; as if nothing can tear them apart anymore. There’s no way to wipe the flashbacks out of their — now shared — memory, but their minds are healing. Dave’s skin is soft, cheeks covered with a slight stubble, and Klaus can’t get enough of his warmth, of his kindness. <em> You have slipped down a rainbow, discovered your own pot of gold*, </em>and there’s finally a glimpse of happiness in the dark. Klaus clings to this moment, kissing Dave’s neck and whispering silly nothings into his ear. </p><p>When the song is over, it keeps repeating itself in his ears.</p><p>“We didn’t lock the door,” Dave reminds him.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Klaus is going to fix it immediately not to let anyone ruin the moment of their intimacy again.  </p><p>The darkness in his bedroom is ripped by the string of Christmas lights on the wall.</p><p>“Come here,” Dave calls for him from the bed.</p><p>Klaus smiles and closes the door. For the first time, he’s not afraid of the mist gathering in the corners. He knows what is waiting for him there tonight: Dave, The Hollies albums and love.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>* inspired by <a href="https://mayfriend.tumblr.com/post/183438712375/a-not-entirely-comprehensive-list-of-headcanons">
    <span>this post</span>
  </a><br/>— klaus and ben only got really close after ben’s death; by nature, ben was an introvert and klaus was hard to talk to when he was high all the time<br/>---<br/>* The Hollies - Isn't It Nice<br/>---<br/>thank you so much for reading &lt;3<br/>feel free to tell me what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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